


Only A Matter of Time

by angstytimelord



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Gen, Revenge, Season/Series 02 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 04:50:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7420585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angstytimelord/pseuds/angstytimelord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He may be confined to a hospital bed now, but Will vows to have his revenge against Hannibal for all the damage he's caused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only A Matter of Time

Will lay back in the hospital bed, wincing.

He hated being here, but he had no choice. After what had happened in Hannibal's house, he knew that he wasn't able to simply brush it aside and go home.

His hand strayed to the bandage on his stomach, fingers brushing lightly over the gauze. He winced again, a slight hiss of pain leaving his lips.

Hannibal had tried to gut him. That monster had wanted to kill him. It didn't matter that Hannibal had avoided the vital organs -- he had probably done that because he had thought that Will would bleed out and die before help arrived.

It wasn't enough that the bastard had framed him for murder and could have very well cost him his life, or that a killer had been sent after him to do him in.

He still didn't have incontrovertible proof that Hannibal had done either of those things. Nothing that would stand up in court, anyway.

But this .... _this_ was proof positive that Hannibal was a murderer.

All right, _attempted_ murderer, Will thought sourly. After all, that monster hadn't succeeded in killing him or Jack. They were both still living, still breathing.

But not for lack of Hannibal _trying_ to kill them. It was more than obvious that the bastard had intended for them both to die in that house.

And he'd killed Abigail. Will swallowed hard, pushing away the memory of seeing the girl who he'd at one time begun to think of as his adopted daughter murdered in front of his eyes, that knife blade slicing across her throat, her blood spilling and the light going out of her eyes.

He didn't want to think about those moments. He didn't want to remember them in such disturbing detail. But they replayed themselves over and over in his mind.

Hannibal blamed _him_ for Abigail's death, of course. In that twisted, demented mind, Will had driven him to commit murder by not blindly obeying him.

That was how things worked in Hannibal's world, Will told himself bitterly. He was the master, and everyone else was simply his puppet. Do as you're told, and everything will be fine. Actually have a mind of your own and don't kowtow to Hannibal's every whim, and disaster strikes.

How could he have ever thought that such a monster was actually his _friend_? What had been wrong with him that he'd overlooked all of the warning signs?

He winced again as he shifted in the bed, trying to find a comfortable position. Did it really matter that he'd ha the wool puled over his eyes, as long as he was alive.

Yes, dammit, it _did_ matter. He wanted justice. He wanted .... _revenge_.

He certainly wasn't going to get that revenge lying here in a hospital bed, he thought peevishly. He just wanted to get out of here, so he could hunt for Hannibal.

But the doctors weren't going to let him do that -- at least, not any time soon, Will thought with a sigh. They'd keep him on a regimen until they were sure he had recovered.

Maybe that was for the best. After all, he knew from personal experience that Hannibal was as slippery as an eel -- and this time, when they met, it would be a duel to the end, a fight to the finish. He was going to make sure that bastard was put behind bars, if it was the last thing he did.

He had to be running at full capacity to do that. And at this point, he wasn't anywhere close to being in good enough shape to go up against Hannibal.

Physically and mentally, at the moment, he was in no condition for that final battle. He would have to be patient, and let himself recover fully.

Though that would be far more easily said than done.

The last thing he wanted was to be confined to a hospital bed, feeling helpless and discouraged. But from what he could see, right now, he had no choice in the matter.

Medically, he was weak. But his mind was as agile as ever, and this time, he wasn't wearing blinkers. The scales had fallen away; he knew exactly what Hannibal was, and what he was capable of. He'd thought he knew that already, but he hadn't even been close.

That kind of evil had to be stopped. It couldn't be allowed to run rampant in the world; if it did, then more and more people, innocent people, would forfeit their lives.

He wasn't going to let the body count keep mounting.

But for the moment, he had to stay where he was, and he knew it. He was too weak to even get out of bed; it would be a while before he could confront Hannibal.

Will's lips tightened, thinning into a straight line. His eyes narrowed, their usually calm, placid expression one of malevolence. He was a man bent on vengeance.

He had a right to that vengeance, he told himself. After what Hannibal had tried to do to him, and after what he'd done to Beverly and Abigail, there was no way that he could allow such a monster to run free. Hannibal had to be caged, or better yet, the world needed to be rid of him.

Well, why not? Will asked himself. Hannibal had taken people out of the world who had deserved to live long, hapy, fruitful lives. He had to be punished for that.

What would be worse, taking his life in return for those he'd snuffed out, or putting him behind bars, taking away his freedom but allow him to still exist?

Will wasn't sure that he could answer such a question.

He was starting to feel tired from all the questions that were circling around and around in his brain. He didn't have the answers to a single one of them.

Not only that, but he simply couldn't deal with those questions right now. He was exhausted, both physically and mentally, and this wasn't the time to worry about what the future might hold. Right now, he had to concentrate on getting his strength back, and getting out of here.

Will closed his eyes as two doctors came into the room, knowing that he was going to be poked and prodded, and probably asked questions that he didn't feel like answering.

Revenge had to go on the back burner -- at least for now.

But he _would_ get his revenge, he vowed, his lips tightening again. Hannibal couldn't hide from him forever. He _would_ get out of this hospital bed and go after his enemy.

And this time, he would be much more prepared for any eventuality. He would become as slippery as Hannibal was -- and he'd beat that monster at his own game.

It was only a matter of time before they met again.

When they did, Will intended to have the upper hand.


End file.
